


Stood Up

by justthehiddles



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Bad Boyfriends, Blind Date, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Implied Smut, Mutual Pining, bad taste in men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:53:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24571861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justthehiddles/pseuds/justthehiddles
Summary: Reader has the worst taste in men.  Fortunately, Tom is there to pick up the pieces.  He is such a good friend but what if he wants to move out of the friendzone and into something more?
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 94





	Stood Up

**Author's Note:**

> The red lights exchange was based off an exchange between Josh and Donna from the West Wing.

Tom was just getting ready to sit down for a late dinner when his phone buzzed against the table. His brow furrowed. He wasn’t expecting any calls this late. Luke would just show up on the stoop and pound on the door until he answered. And besides, he had done nothing in the last few days to incur the trademark Windsor wrath.

He smiled when he saw your photo on his screen. That ridiculous photo he snapped of you at your birthday last year. He tapped the screen to take the call.

“Date going that well?” Tom retorted with a giggle.

“Can you come and get me?” you sobbed into the phone.

“What happened?” Tom stood to his feet, dinner forgotten as he slipped his shoes back on and grabbed his keys.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine, of course, whatever. Where am I heading?” He was already halfway out the door.

“The usual spot.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

Tom got there in eight minutes.

-

You paced outside the pub as Tom pulled up to the sidewalk. You walked around and slid into the front passenger seat before Tom could get out.

He noticed the mascara streaking down your cheeks. He reached for you, but you pulled away.

“Just drive please, Tom. I will explain later.”

Tom shifted into drive and took off down the road. He drove in silence. At the first red light, he leaned away to fish a handkerchief out of his back pocket.

“Here.”

“Thank you.” You blew your nose and wiped away most of your now ruined makeup.

“Can I at least get his name?”

“Shawn.”

“Shawn.” Tom repeated, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.

Tom didn’t bother asking where to take you. He knew the answer. He always knew. Tom pulled the car into his driveway and switched off the engine. This time you let him open the door and help you out of the car.

Once inside, he set about making you a cup of tea. He placed the cup in front of you, steam trailing up towards the ceiling.

“So?” Tom questioned as he sipped from his own mug.

A solitary tear rolled down your cheek. Followed by another. And then soon a flood. “He stood me up.”

“I’ll kill the bastard.” Tom slammed his fist on the table.

You chuckled. “You always say that.”

“I always mean it. Tell me the rest.”

“I cried for thirty minutes at the bar before the bartender took pity on me.” You hiccuped before taking another sip of your tea. “He gave me free drinks for the rest of the night.”

Tom pulled you close and cradled you against his chest. “I am so sorry, darling. Would you like to crash here tonight?”

You nodded. “That would be nice, thank you.”

Tom smiled and placed your empty cup next to his. “Your clothes are in the bureau in the spare bedroom and the bathroom is stocked.”

You rose and leaned over and kissed Tom’s cheek. His eyes squeezed closed. “You are too good to me, you realize that right?” you commented, a smile returned to your face.

Tom smiled back, his heart sinking. “I’m just being a good friend.”

“A best friend. See you in the morning?”

“Of course!” his smile remained tightlipped. “If I am not back from my run, make yourself at home.”

You hugged him once again before heading off to shower and sleep. Tom sat at the table for a while longer, head in hands and heart heavy.

-

You woke the next morning to a pounding headache and an empty stomach. Last night’s memories flooded back to you. You rolled over with a groan.

“Fuck….” you moaned as you sat up and stretched out. Your back cracked and your shoulders relaxed.

You stood and grabbed the spare robe you stashed in the closet and headed to the kitchen. The sound of music filtered through the house along with the smells of bacon and coffee.

Tom stood at the stove, his spoon acting as a microphone as he belted out a song.

“Bye, bye love...” His hips swayed to the guitar strum. “Bye, bye happiness.”

Tom continued to dance, and you leaned against the door frame, enjoying the show. Tom spun on his heel and stopped when he saw you. He dropped the spoon to his side.

“How long have you been standing there?” he questioned.

“Long enough to question whether you missed your calling as a singer.” you giggled as you made your way to the coffee, pouring a large mug.

“Hilarious. I hope you have an appetite.”

“Always.” You snagged a piece of bacon as Tom swatted at your hand.

“Sit.” He gestured to the table. “It will just be another moment.”

You went to snag more bacon, but Tom caught your hand this time.

“Fine.” you pouted.

Tom smiled as he spied you heading towards the table. This was his favorite time. The morning after. Just the two of you. How he wished it could always just be the two of you. Every morning and every night.

“Eat up.” Tom plopped the plate filled with a full English breakfast.

“The Hiddleston special.” You tucked in, and Tom did the same.

You thought as you chewed your food. You thought throughout the entire breakfast. Your furrowed bow did not go unnoticed by Tom.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked as he cleared the plates.

You contemplated whether or not to lie.

“Why do I always pick the wrong guy?”

Tom was grateful he was facing away from you when you blurted out your question because his face would have given his feelings away. He took a moment to compose himself before turning to face you.

“Oh come on, they all weren’t as bad as this last guy. What about that one bloke name started with a ‘c’? Connor?”

“Charles.” you grimaced.

Tom snapped. “Charles! He seemed all right.”

You slumped in your chair. “I never told you, did I?”

“Told me what?” Tom sat down.

“Remember how I took those three weeks off a few years ago?”

“You said something about needing to use up some vacation time.”

“Well I lied. I had an accident.”

Tom grabbed your hand. His thumb running along your knuckles. “An accident? Why didn’t you call? I could have—”

“You were in Vietnam, remember?” you smiled, placing your hand on top of his, stilling his nervous gesture.

“Right.” Tom lowered his head in guilt. He should have been here. For you. “What does this have to do with Charles? I thought he broke up with you.”

“Not exactly. When I called to tell him about the accident, on the way to hospital he stopped and had a pint with some of his mates.” A big tear fell from your eye.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Tom yelled at the top of his lungs. “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“He was supposed to meet them. He stopped on the way to tell them he couldn’t stay.” you made excuses.

“AND DRANK A FUCKING PINT?!” Tom seethed. If he knew it wouldn’t break his hand, he would punch the wall right now.

“The important thing is…” you hissed. “… this just demonstrates I have rubbish taste in men.”

Tom’s demeanor softened as he recognized the hurt and pain in your voice. He pulled to his side, holding you tight. “All it takes is one good one.”

“Is that all? Is it that simple?” You gave a hollow laugh. Tom continued to hold you tight. The seconds ticked by and you found yourself not wanting to leave his side. You cleared your throat. “I should head back to my place.”

“Right!” Tom nervously wiped his hands on his jeans. “Can I take you to lunch this week? My treat.”

“I’ll have to check my schedule.” You turned to leave. Tom grabbed your wrist.

“Just so you know,” Tom’s eyes wide. “if you ever were in an accident, I wouldn’t stop for a beer.” You nodded and attempted to leave, but Tom held his grip tight. “I wouldn’t stop for red lights.”

“Good to know.” you gulped.

-

Benedict stopped by later that day at Tom’s request.

“I can see by your face you still haven’t told her your true feelings.” Ben pulled a beer from the fridge.

“How can I now, Ben? We have been friends for over four years! If that is not being friend zoned, I’m not sure what is.”

Ben grabbed a second beer from the fridge and handed it to Tom, who gladly accepted it.

“True, but how many of your female friends call you when their date goes wrong?” Tom opened his mouth to respond, but Benedict held up a hand to cut him off. “Or keeps clothes in the bureau in your spare room? Or cancels a vacation to see your opening night performance?”

“She told me the resort closed because of a fire?!”

“She told Sophie the truth. Who told me. Soph swore me to secrecy.”

“You rat.”

“My point is… “ Ben gave Tom a knowing glance. “… this is not normal friend behavior.”

“I guess you’re right.” Tom conceded.

“I am right. Plus Sophie may or may not have mentioned that she compares all her dates to you.”

“I thought the two of you were my friends!” Tom scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. “I’ve known you longer.”

“But I like her better. And so does Soph. She doesn’t eat all our food or get dog hair on the couch.”

“Give me your phone.”

“Why?” Ben fished it out of his pocket and held it close to his chest.

“I’m going to fling it across the room.” Tom lunged, but Ben jerked backwards. “I’m kidding, I need to call and talk to your wife.”

“To plot my murder?” Ben handed over the phone.

“As tempting as that is, no. I need her to set me up on a date.”

It was only then the look of horror left Benedict’s face.

-

You chatted with Sophie as you walked to the pub.

“Are you sure I will like this William guy?”

“I’m positive, dear.” Sophie assured you over the phone. “He is just your type.”

“That is what you said about Shawn and Eric and—”

“Okay, so my matchmaking skills have been crap but this guy is different.”

“How? How is this guy different from every other loser you set me up with?”

“Well for one, you have already met this loser.” Sophie snapped back.

“When?”

“Years ago. At a party at our house. I remember the two of you getting into quite a heated conversation.”

Your brows knitted as you tried to place this conversation. The only person who you have those kinds of conversations with is Tom. But again, when you drink you can get quite passionate.

“I will have to take your word for it. How will I recognize this guy?”

“He’ll recognize you.”

“Not stalkerish at all. After this relationship fails, I’m swearing off men.”

“Deal. But you won’t have to, because this guy is a keeper.”

“I highly doubt that, unless you are setting me up Tom which is ridiculous.”

“Completely.” Sophie scoffed. “I don’t even think he is in town right now.”

“Oh.” your voice dropped. Tom always confided in you about his travels. “He didn’t mention anything.”

“It was a last-minute trip.”

“Okay, I’m here, Soph. Wish me luck.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it.”

-

You tapped your foot anxiously against the barstool. William was twenty minutes late. You sighed as the reality that you were being stood up again sunk in.

“Excuse me, but is this seat taken?” a familiar voice asked from behind you.

“Tom!” you exclaimed, jumping to your feet and pulling him into a hug.

“It’s good to see you!” Tom wrapped his arms around and inhaled the scent of your shampoo and perfume. His stomach fluttered with butterflies.

“Soph said you were out of town.”

“I got back in early.” he lied. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting stood up. Again.” you grumbled.

Tom slid into the seat next to you. “I wouldn’t worry I’m sure William will turn up eventually.” Tom lifted a hand to get the bartender’s attention.

Your head snapped around to glare at him. “I never mentioned his name to you. In fact, I never mentioned this date to you.”

“Are you sure?” Tom questioned. He lifted his pint glass to his lips to hide a smile.

“I’m positive. In fact, you have been avoiding my calls all week.”

“I had things I needed to do.” Tom turned to face you.

“Such as?”

“Getting ready for a big date for one.”

Your heart dropped to your shoes. It had been at least a year since Tom had been involved with anyone. You always secretly hoped you and Tom would end up together. But with each passing year, that seemed less and less likely.

“Oh, how did you go?”

“Not sure yet. How is it going?”

“How would I know?” You stared at Tom, who raised an eyebrow. “Oh, oh, OH! What are you saying Thomas William… oh!”

Tom downed the rest of his pint before trusting himself to speak again.

“I’m saying all it takes is one good guy. And a good guy wouldn’t stop for red lights if you were in an accident. Let me be your one good guy. Let it be me.” Tom spat the words out at a rapid pace. He took a deep breath as the last words left his lips.

“But we’re friends.” you countered.

“Good friends. Best friends.” Tom said. “But I want more.”

“Why did you never tell me before?”

“Fear. Stupidity. Take your pick.”

“Why now?”

“Fear. Stupidity.” Tom smiled. “Take your pick. The fact is it is you I want you to wake up next to me for the rest of my life. I want you to be my morning, noon, and night. And the first call when you are in the hospital. That is, if you will have me.” Tom reached out and placed his hand on top of yours.

You necked your drink and placed the glass on the wooden bar top before looking at Tom. He stared at you as if you held his life in your hands. In many ways you did.

You took a deep breath and exhaled. “I would like that too.”

Tom smiled and rose to his feet and leaned down to kiss you. You leaned back and wrapped your arms around his neck, teasing your fingers through his hair. Tom deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

A small moan escaped your lips and some patrons in the bar wolf whistled and someone yelled “get a room”.

Tom and you parted. Tom’s chest heaved. “An excellent suggestion. My place?”

“On the first date? What kind of girl do you take me for, Mr. Hiddleston?” You pushed Tom away in a playful manner.

Tom snaked his arm around your waist and pulled you tight to his side. His lips curved into a devilish smile as they ghost against your ears. “My girl. You are mine.”

His voice sent a jolt of electricity through you as he led you to the exit.


End file.
